Finley cocked his head slightly and looked at me. He blinked a tear from his eye, and it slowly trickled down his face. I reached over, wiped it, and sucked my finger into my mouth. He gasped…then smiled, falling against me and burying his face in my neck again.
“Thank you! God, thank you so much!” He sighed, relaxing against me. His cock had hardened and was pressing into my stomach. “So…do we get to make adjustments for sex?”
I chuckled and felt him tremble, my joy radiating from my chest and vibrating through him. “Be good.”
“Ugh…fine.” He nuzzled in deeper and inhaled. “I like the way you smell. It relaxes me. Makes me feel safe and at home.”
Damned if my pulse didn’t beat wildly against my skin, my body feeling a little too sensitive. “Stay as long as you need to.”
So he did. We sat there for who knew how long, Finley giving me his weight and me carrying it. And in the bearing of his, some of mine was carried by him too.
Eventually, he said, “I’d like to take a warm bath.”
“I’ll start it.”
“But aren’t I supposed to do those things for you? If I’m your houseboy? You shouldn’t serve me.”
“I should care for you, no? This is just another way for me to do so.” It was a reminder of how young he was, how inexperienced.
Finley climbed off me, and I didn’t allow myself to look at him as I rose, went to the bathroom, and drew his bath. A moment later he walked in, and it was impossible not to see his dick was hard and his balls tight. His ass was deliciously pink, and he had light hair on his legs but none on his chest or belly.
He smiled when he saw me looking, and I shook my head. Naughty, naughty boy.
I stayed with him as he bathed, then helped him dry off afterward. It was early, but I could tell his body was exhausted from the long day and all the emotions.
“You need your sleep. Put some sweats on and go to bed.”
Finley didn’t argue. He dressed, climbed in, and I brushed the back of my hand against his smooth cheek again. “Good night, precious boy.”
“I wish you could stay with me.”
“Good night,” I repeated, then turned off the light and slipped out.
Alone in my office, hours later, I realized I still felt him, that he was beneath my skin already, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Finley
It was Aidan’s day off, and I wanted to do something special for him. It was clear the day would be spent doing the school stuff, which I couldn’t say I was excited about. I still didn’t think it mattered, in the grand scheme of things, if I had a high school diploma or not, but I did feel better about it after what happened the other night.
It had been… God, I trembled at just the thought. It had been so many things I wanted and needed and didn’t fully realize I wanted and needed until then.
The way he had punished me hurt, obviously, and I could have done without it, but the fact that he did it pleased me, because it was a way for Aidan to take care of me and do what was best for me, and that made my heart swell and my thoughts calm down. There was also a part of me that liked the pain and was curious about it, but I wanted to explore it in the context of pleasure, not punishment.
I had set my alarm clock for earlier than usual so I could set about my day. I made my bed before going downstairs to the laundry room. The basket had laundry in it, which Aidan had thrown down the laundry chute. Until I moved in with him, I didn’t even know people still had those nowadays. It was a little funny. Aidan came off as such an old soul in some ways.
Once his laundry was in, I started coffee and breakfast, a foreign sort of pride swelling within me at the fact that I was serving him in these ways. Logically, I knew most people wouldn’t understand that. Maybe it was a little weird to desire these things and feel complete because of them, but I did, and I hadn’t felt fulfilled in my whole life before Aidan, so I didn’t care what anyone else thought.
I made a veggie omelet for him, with a blueberry bagel. Once it was done, I plated the food and put it on a tray along with orange juice and his coffee exactly how he liked it—milk and two sugars—and then prayed like hell I didn’t carry a breakfast tray as terribly as when I’d been a waiter because it would be just my luck to drop it and ruin the morning.
The tray didn’t tumble from my hands, and I didn’t spill anything before setting it on the floor in front of Aidan’s bedroom door. I’d never been in his room with him. We didn’t cuddle on his bed the way he often let me do with him on the couch, and an excited sort of vibration ran the length of my body. Of course, it would suck if he sent me out, but I hoped he didn’t, hoped he saw this for what it was.
Once I had the door open, I picked up the tray again and walked inside. He lay on his side, surrounded by the thick and fluffy white bedding, stubble along his jaw that I wanted to feel scrape against my skin, especially my ass, which was still deliciously tender. I willed my cock not to get hard.
His dark-brown eyes fluttered open, making me wonder if he’d already been partially awake. “Surprise. I made you breakfast in bed! I hope you don’t mind.”
He gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but I didn’t think he was disappointed in any way.
“Thank you,” Aidan replied, sitting up.
I set the tray on the bed, my eyes darting between Aidan and the food, wanting to watch him and take pleasure in him enjoying the meal I cooked for him.
“Did you eat already?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t make anything for myself. I can eat some cereal later. I wanted to do something special for you.” Because I was there with him and he had punished me and then held me before making me understand why he did the things he did. For wanting the best for me when no one had in so very long.
“Sit down.” He nodded toward the bed, and I did so. “Give me just a moment.” Aidan stood, wearing a pair of tight, black boxer trunks that hugged his ass deliciously and showed me his very large bulge. God, I wanted it. Wanted to kneel for him and inhale the scent between his legs, suck him off and choke on his cock before nursing it while he played with my hair…
He walked to the bathroom, and I watched him go. Aidan pushed the door partway closed; not all the way, but enough so I couldn’t see him, and I heard him as he began to take a piss. I wanted in there with him while he did that too. I yearned to hold his cock for him while he went, which again, maybe that was weird, but I didn’t care.
The toilet flushed, and then the faucet ran, I assumed to wash his hands. A moment later he was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his tray on his lap. Aidan cut the bagel in half, then did the same with the omelet. “Eat.” He handed me half of the bagel while he used the fork to begin eating half of the omelet.
I took a bite but wished he would feed me from his hand. I wanted that right then, to be fed by him. I would feed him as well. Was that something a houseboy was supposed to do? But then I remembered what Aidan had said, about doing what worked for us and that the rest of it didn’t matter.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“I did. How was work yesterday?”
Aidan shrugged. He didn’t like to talk about what he did. Sometimes I thought maybe it made him sad.